The muslin-wrapped bundle is there, and I lift it out and head back into the living room. After setting them on the coffee table, I untie the red silk ribbon that still holds them wrapped and pull away the fabric.
“Are you guys okay?” Yes. Maybe they have a little magic of their own because they seem undamaged. I look at Sloan to reassure him that his book seems unharmed and my stomach churns even worse. “Shit. Sloan?”
With all eyes in the room on me, no one noticed that our wayfarer guest has slumped over to one side in a sweat. I’m the first to get to him, and I lean him back to see what’s happened. “Shit. He’s out cold and drenched. Get him to the couch and lay him down.”
“What’s wrong with him?” Da asks as Aiden and Emmet move him.
“I don’t know. He hasn’t been a hundred percent since he woke up in our cell. I checked him over then—Ohmygawd! Is he turning into a vampire?”
“What?” Emmet grips me under my arms and pulls me back. “Okay, you seriously need to rest. First, you’re worried about books, and now Sloan’s turning into a vampire?”
“I’m fine.” I pull free and place a hand on Sloan’s forehead. “After the accident, I woke up on a cot sealed in a druid magic-free cell. Sloan took longer to wake. He said when he and Skull Trim were fighting, he got poofed away and sedated when a henchman snacked on him and drugged him with vampire venom.”
“Vampire?” Dillan peels back with a groan. “I thought you were in shock when you said that. Seriously, Da? Do ye not think we shoulda known about this shit before now? We’re out on the street every day.”
I undo the top buttons of Sloan’s shirt and put a little throw pillow under his head. “Focus, people. What will venom do to him?”
Da frowns. “Nothing good, I’m sure.”
“You don’t know?”
“Fi, I left the preternatural life when I was eighteen. Vampires, witches, zombies, and the monsters of the other magical sects never came into my training.”
“Zombies?” Emmet repeats, the pitch of his voice unusually high.
I ignore my brothers. “Then we need Granda’s help.”
Da pulls out his phone and makes the call. He puts it on speaker and holds it toward me. A moment later, Gran picks up. “Hello, dear. It’s nice—”
“Gran,” I blurt while taking the phone from his hand. “Sorry, I don’t mean to be rude, but I need Granda. Is he there?”
“Och, one moment, luv.” She sets down whatever she was doing and shuffles through the house and out the front door. “Lugh! Fiona needs ye. It sounds urgent.”
“Hi Gran,” Emmet shouts while leaning over the coffee table. “This is Emmet.”
“Hello, luv. Okay, Fi, here’s yer grandfather.”
“Fiona, what’s the matter?”
I give Granda a crib notes version of what happened and end with Sloan being unconscious on our couch. “Is he turning into a vampire?”
“No, likely not. It would help if I could see him. Can ye call me on my new cellular and switch me to video?”
I balk at that. “Wow, you got a cell phone?”
“Sloan helped us pick it out,” Gran says from the background. “We have a laptop, too.”
I can’t imagine but now is not the time. “Yeah, give me your number, and I’ll call you right back.” Emmet writes it down as he recites the digits and I do as he asks. When the call connects, I hold the phone over Sloan’s face so he can see. “Press his lips up off his teeth. Let me see his gums. How do they look?”
Dillan takes the phone, so my hands are free. I push Sloan’s lips up from his teeth and let Granda take a look.
“Press the gums over the roots of his incisors. Did his canines descend at all?”
“No. They seem normal.”
“What about his blood? If ye cut him, does the wound swell with scarlet blood as ye’d expect?”
I look at Aiden. He always carries a pocket knife. He takes it out, sits on the coffee table to get a good angle on Sloan’s arm, and draws the silver blade’s tip across the tender flesh of his palm.
Staring at the line he draws, I’ve never wanted to see someone bleed so much. When the blood swells, I let out a heavy breath. “Okay, that’s normal too. It’s bleeding as it should.”
“Then it’s likely only poisoned him.”
I frown. “Oh, is that all? Then great, why worry?”
“Watch yer tone, missy. Sloan is important to me, too. I’m tryin’ to help ye.”
I take a breath. “Sorry. What can we do?”
My new spellbook bangs its cover on the table and flips her pages until they fall open on the section marked Poisons. “Good thinking. Thank you, Beauty.”
I look over the section she’s shown me and find a sub-section marked Monster Venom. “Granda, in my spellbook, I have a potion, but I don’t know what half of the ingredients are. Can you help me?”
“Read them out, luv.” Gran grabs a notepad and her spellbook. “I’ll look things up while yer talkin’.”
I start reading the ingredients out and get about halfway down the list before Granda drops his gaze, and Gran stops writing. “What? What’s the matter now?”
“Adder’s fork is the tongue of a European viper, and lionfish spine is literally the separated vertebrae of a lionfish. Both will be immensely hard to locate, and even if yer proficiency with potion work wasn’t nil, neither ingredient could get to you in time.”
“Would Wallace have the ingredients?”
“Likely so. He has an extensive clinic and prides himself on being prepared for anything.”
“Okay, then send Wallace here. He fixed you up and patched me up more than once. Surely he can gather what he needs and leave Ireland to save his son.”
Gran milling her hands isn’t a good sign.
“What?” I ask. “Why can’t Wallace fix this?”
“There isn’t time, Fi. A flight to Toronto wouldn’t get him to ye—”
“Find someone to portal him. The McNiff heir from the alley fight. He’s a wayfarer. Send Wallace with him.”
Gran frowns, and I know the reason why that won’t work before she says a thing. “Shit.”
I meet the confused gazes of my brothers. “Wayfarers can only transport to somewhere they’ve been previously. It’s a GPS thing. Their inner compass needs to sense the exact coordinates.”
Calum curses. “I don’t suppose the McNiff guy Fi mentioned has been to Toronto? Maybe he’s a Blue Jays fan?”
Granda shakes his head. “No. The McNiffs are purists. No member of their clan has ever left the enchantment of fae grounds. They pride themselves on that fact and never let us forget it.”
“Okay, so what do we do?”
Granda’s pursed lips make my panic triple. “Ye make him comfortable. If he was bitten hours ago, he’ll be gone in a very few hours more. I’m sorry, mo chroi. Ye did yer best.”
“No.” My mind reels. “We can’t give up and let him die.”
“There’s nothing to be done, Fi,” Granda repeats. “If ye were here, sure, there are greater fae to bargain with, and possibly one might help for a price, but so far from home… There’s nothing fer ye to do. I’m sorry.”
An hour later, I’m sitting on the edge of my bed, pressing a damp cloth on Sloan’s forehead. Aiden and Da took off his shirt, shoes, and socks to help cool his fever, but it’s a bandage on a bullet wound situation. Kyle is curled up on my rug. He’s not sleeping, but he hasn’t said a word since we came upstairs to wait things out.
A knock on the door brings all four of my brothers into my room. Aiden’s got Da’s bag of marbles in his hands, and Calum and Dillan each carry one of the spellbooks.
Emmet shrugs. “There’s a section in here about sacred death prayers. We thought maybe we could offer him safe passage. You know, to let him know we care.”
I blink back the sting that brings tears to my eyes. “That’s very sweet, you guys. Thank you.”
“It was Da’s idea,” Aiden says, as m
y father comes into the room to join us. He’s wearing a white button-down dress shirt, a leather kilt, and a jewel-hilted sword at his hip. It’s the stuff he keeps stuffed at the bottom of the trunk in his closet.
Somehow, embracing his heritage seems like a bitter victory. “You look every bit as handsome as any of the druid men at the Tralee festival, Da. Thank you.”
He dips his chin. “Sloan’s been a good friend to this family and risked his life to keep ye safe more than once. He has our undying respect fer that.”
Aiden sets Sloan’s spellbook on his chest and places his hands over the top. “Peace be with you, brother.”
The boys empty Da’s bag, and everyone takes one of the marble casting stones and kneels beside the bed. Da stands at the footboard with Beauty in his hands and starts to read the prayer. I pull out my peridot and stare at the beautiful green gemstone.
How can this be the end of Sloan?
His warm brown skin has a gray tinge to it that makes me ill. This is my fault. If he hadn’t gotten dragged into my drama… If he hadn’t portaled me home… If I hadn’t asked him to copy his spellbook and get me set up…
If any or all of those things hadn’t happened, he’d be in Ireland, healthy and surly, and lauding himself over the peons.
I’m sorry about this.
I wish I had a bit of Sloan’s magic to hold him in my happy place and visit him once in a while. I think he and Brenny would get along. Likely Patty, too.
I rub a thumb over my peridot. It’s warm in my fingers, its energy bolstered since I used it to release Kyle for our escape earlier. Used to clarify the mind, and increase willpower, well-being, and vitality. I push with everything I have, wishing for Sloan’s health and life. Nothing helps.
It hurts to lose him so soon after Brendan.
With my heart aching, I withdraw from my consciousness and leave my brothers and my father to say the farewells. Instead, I open my eyes and find myself in Shenanigans with Brenny and Da at the bar. Patty sits absently in the corner booth. I point at the jukebox, and Suspicious Minds comes on. Patty straightens and meets my gaze.
“Hey.” I join him in his booth. “Sorry I didn’t get to say hello earlier. I was busy escaping from imprisonment in a magic-free zone.”
“Not a problem. So yer free? All is well?”
“Yes, I’m free. All is far from well. Remember when I told you about my friend Sloan?”
“The druid stickler that lives to look down on ye?”
“That’s him. He got poisoned by vampire venom while saving my life. I tried to get him help, but there’s nothing and no one close enough to where we are to save him.”
Da brings over a couple of pints of green Guinness, and I thank him. “A tribute to yer friend. Yer always up fer a pint, aren’t ye, Patty?”
“I am at that.” Patty raises his glass.
It’s funny. I’ve never had a lot of friends beyond my brothers and a few girlfriends. Now, I have Kyle, Sloan, and Patty. I look around and smile.
“A bear, a druid, and a Man o’ Green walk into a bar.”
Patty chuckles and uses both hands to lift his glass to his lips. “I’m sorry yer life turned on ye, Fi. Don’t forget to speak the word.”
I swallow a mouthful and close my eyes, tracking the descent of the icy chill down my esophagus and into my belly.
What’s that? What did Patty say to me as I was released from my detainment in the dragon cave? If yer future turns on ye, speak the word, and we’ll make it right.
“I wish you could make it right, Patty.”
He sets his glass on the table, and his eyes glitter behind the rounds of his frameless spectacles. “A wish, ye say? Then let’s hear it. Make it plain.”
“Are you…” I know leprechauns are greater fae powers, but… “Is saving Sloan from the poisoning of vampire venom within your powers, Patty?”
“That depends.”
“On what?”
“A bargain with a man of my ranking is a complicated thing, Fiona. Don’t consider it without considering that. Because I like ye, I’ll lay it out fer ye. Properly made, greater fae bargains hold great power, but they must be weighed and balanced. If I save yer friend, what do you offer me of equal importance? Ye see the rub? Do I want yer first-born? I don’t think I do, but I could ask it. Do ye understand?”
Oh, yeah. Okay, that’s a scary thought. “Is there anything you want or even think you want? Sloan hasn’t long to live. If you are his last hope, we need to come to terms quickly.”
He takes his hat off and sets it on the table. “As of now, yer new to all things. Yer power is fledgling. Yer knowledge is low. Yer contacts and connections uninspiring.”
“As pep-talks go, this one bites.”
He holds up a stubby finger, and I make the gesture of locking my lips and throwing away the key.
“Yer new to it all, but I like playin’ the long game. I have faith in ye, wee girl. In six months or a year down the road, ye’ll be a very different druid. That Fiona might well have somethin’ I value.”
“So, you want a blank-slate raincheck? That’s terrifying, Patty. What if Her Slitheriness gets a hankering for Canadian? I won’t give you one of my brothers to feed her.”
“Now yer catchin’ on. Good on ye, Fi.” He arches up one of his bushy eyebrows. “No. I’ll not put ye in that spot. Let’s agree that what I can ask of ye must be a favor or an action. I’ll not claim the life of one ye love. I promise ye that.”
A favor or action. Is there anything I wouldn’t do to save someone I love? “I won’t forfeit the lives of family or friends, and I won’t kill innocent people.”
“Agreed. I’ll not ask ye to.”
I raise my glass and think about it some more as I down a few swallows. “Okay, you heal Sloan Mackenzie of Stormcrest Castle of the vampire venom poison taking his life. In return, I agree to fulfill a favor or action in the future as long as it doesn’t cause me to lose any family or friends or kill any innocent people.”
I try to get as much information in the agreement as I can. Gran said words hold power in the fae world. I want to make sure I honor that.
“Shall we seal it with a kiss?” Patty answers.
I give him a wry glance. “Is that customary?”
“No, but I thought it was worth a shot.”
I chuckle and lean over the table, propping myself up on my elbows. Before my lips meet his, I smile. “It’s a deal.”
My eyes open and I’m kneeling at the side of my bed. My brothers are still focused on their stones, and Da is still reading the prayer from the pages of my pretty new spellbook. I stand, and Patty’s there, sitting cross-legged on the pillow beside Sloan’s head.
“Is this him?”
The startled grunts and bewildered looks of my family are hilarious. I deserve another Oh Henry! bar, if only it were a prank. “Yes, this is Sloan.”
“Consider our bargain sealed.”
I’m about to thank him when I remember Sloan’s warning about that. “Your actions in saving his life won’t be forgotten, Patty. You are a great man. I count myself lucky for knowing you.”
Patty smiles. “That’s a girl. Now yer suckin’ diesel.”
And with that, Patty and Sloan vanish.
Chapter Twenty-Five
“What did ye do, Cumhaill?” I hear the worried frustration in Sloan’s voice and tuck my cell between my ear and shoulder. “A bargain with a Man o’ Green? Yer nowhere near skilled enough in the nuances of fae communication to be posing a trade.”
It’s been a week since Patty poofed Sloan off my bed and back home to his father. Wallace said he arrived home cured of the poison, but there was a great deal of damage done to his system—injuries that might’ve killed him if Patty hadn’t deposited him home.
“You’re welcome,” I retort, although I don’t need him to thank me. I did it as much for myself as I did it for him. He had my back, and I wouldn’t let him die because I was out of my depths. “How are you feeling?
”
He huffs, and I picture him all stressed out and annoyed. Hilarious. “Do ye know what ye’ve done?”
“I do, although I’m alone in my opinion of what that is. I think it was a bargain well-made and worth what comes.”
I head back into the stock room to grab the next box. Like the one in Gran’s and Granda’s house, there is a tree growing from the ground in the middle of the reading area off the main store. It seems like the building that houses Myra’s Emporium was built around it to preserve its fate.
“You’re alive. That’s a solid check in my win column.”
“But at what cost?”
I set the box of books on the long wooden counter and use the box-cutter to open it. “A cost I’m willing to pay at a later date. Look, you can save the lecture. I’ve been getting it from all sides for days. Da thinks I’m blind to danger and determined to get myself killed, and Granda thinks I’m an uneducated fool who doesn’t know better, annnnd who’s also going to get myself killed.”
He chuckles. “Well, at least they agree on something.”
“Go me! Bridging the gap of a forty-year estrangement.”
“Speaking of strange. I heard yer bear is living large.”
I unpack the box, transferring the books onto the counter for pricing. “He is. He doesn’t appreciate being trapped in me while I suffer through magical brownouts. He’s opted to hang around the house and go out to the forested areas of the Don at night to get his groove on.”
“Ye realize yer setting a bad example fer the rest of the folks that have battle beasts, right?”
I laugh. “Live and let live. He has time to make up for, and so much he wants to learn about life in Toronto. As long as there are no news headlines the next morning, I’m certainly not going to stop him. Besides, the whole family loves him. Aiden even brought Kinu and the kids over to meet him.”
“His wee ones spent time with the bear? So, none of ye have any sense, then?”
“Kyle won’t hurt anyone unless they try to take a stab at us. Then, it sucks to be them because he’s our secret Killer Clawbearer weapon.”
A Gilded Cage (Chronicles of an Urban Druid Book 1) Page 21
